


Pain & Pleasure

by alexis (of_too_minds)



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 13:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1173483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/of_too_minds/pseuds/alexis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You always hurt the ones you love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pain

I always go for the ones I can’t have.

 

Six months after the siege began Max crawled into my bed like she owned it.

 

All she wanted was a little physical contact to remind her that she was still alive and breathing. No one ever touched her anymore except for me and Joshua. She was our leader. She was unique. Different. That made her untouchable. And transgenics aren’t touchy-feely people at the best of times.

 

I should’ve known better than to give in to her… but I didn’t even try to stop myself. I’ve always been so damn weak when it comes to her and she knows it. I couldn’t refuse her. All it took was one touch of her sweet lips to make me her slave.

 

Max wanted someone to touch, not someone to love. It took her two weeks to whisper my name in the dark, and a month before she’d scream it out loud. But I let myself pretend. And she let me pretend, too.

 

Six months later Freak Nation won the right to exist. Everything changed for us, and nothing. Max went on hating me in public and fucking my brains out in private, even after we both moved out of Terminal City. I should’ve known better than to let her… but I didn’t. Or I couldn’t. Take your pick.

 

And if she knew what it was doing to me, she didn’t care. Or she didn’t let herself care, because she needed my touch too much to stop. And what I wanted never mattered much to her anyway.

 

Two months later Logan finally found the cure, and Max finally walked away from me. She didn’t even tell me about it until three days later. I spent a week drinking myself blind.

 

Three and a half weeks later, she jumped back into my bed as if she’d never left it.

 

After three years of waiting for Logan and a month of making love to him by candlelight and soft jazz, she was back to demanding I scratch her itch. She should’ve known he could never satisfy her; she’s a revved-up super girl after all, and Logan’s only human and a crippled one at that. And eight months with me gave her a taste for sex with a fully-functioning transgenic male.

 

I should’ve known better than to fall into her trap again… but I didn’t. She rode me mercilessly that night – sharp nails and sharper teeth. Marking her territory. And I gave as good as I got. She had to avoid Logan for two days until the marks faded from her skin. She avoided me too; her way of punishing me, I suppose. Or herself maybe, for needing me when Logan was right there, loving her. It doesn’t matter which because it didn’t stop us from playing our twisted little game behind his back.

 

But she never screamed my name again. I should’ve taken that as a sign… but I didn’t. Because at least she didn’t scream  **his**  name either.

 

One awful night two months later she came to me still reeking of him. She was so desperate for the release only  **I**  could give her that she didn’t even stop to wash his scent from her skin. And I just couldn’t do it anymore. I left. Where I found the strength to walk away I’ll never know. The next two weeks are a blank, numb hole in my perfect memory. I suspect copious amounts of alcohol were involved.

 

When I finally stumbled home to my dark apartment, she was there waiting for me. She attacked me before the door was even closed. She fought me with every dirty trick she had, and I was too much in shock at her presence to even defend myself.

 

Max was crying so hard she had to force the insults out between her sobs. The toughest, most bad-assed chick I knew was a puddle of tears because her boytoy sex buddy left her.

 

Because  **I**  left  **her**.

 

I let her pin me to the floor and when she finished pummelling my chest with her fists, she bent her head and kissed me. Soft and gentle, the way she’d never kissed me before.

 

Later she screamed my name into the darkness.

 

She stayed with me that night, and every night since. A month ago I told her I loved her. Two hours ago she admitted she loved me back. Maybe I should’ve known that… but somehow I didn’t.

 

Love is pain. But pain is good; pain tells you that you’re still alive. Only the dead feel no pain. But I’m not dead yet, and Max is far from gentle.

 

I always go for the ones I can’t have. But when they go for me too, doesn’t that make it fate?

 


	2. Pleasure

Love sucks.

 

Six months after the siege began I crawled on my belly into Alec’s bed.

 

All I needed was a little physical contact to remind me that I was still alive and breathing. Still a real girl and not just some freakish messiah. Joan of Arc I’m not, no matter what they say. Alec made me feel. Touched me in ways I’d never imagined, not even in my wildest Heat-induced fantasies.

 

I never knew how good it could be with another transgenic. With Alec. I never knew how to let go and just feel. Until Alec.

 

It was two weeks before I stopped worrying someone would hear me. Another month before I stopped caring if they did. That boy has mad skills in bed. No wonder women flocked to him like hungry bees. Bitches.

 

Six months later Freak Nation won the right to exist. Nothing changed; not with us, not even after we both moved out of Terminal City and back into the real world. Alec still annoyed the hell out of me in public and put that wicked tongue of his to much better use in private.

 

Sometimes he’d get this look in his eyes, like he wanted more from me than just sex. Like being with me only in the dark was killing him. I ignored it. I didn’t let myself care what he was feeling. I needed his touch too much to let it stop me. No one else touched me. Ever. I was trapped inside some invisible bubble. Unique. Untouchable. It sucked. I just wanted to feel. I wanted what Alec could give me. What I could take from him.

 

I never knew how not to be a selfish bitch. In a world gone Darwin, I’ve learned to take whatever I can get. But I stopped looking at myself in the mirror so I wouldn’t have to see if that same look was in  **my**  eyes. I learned to close my eyes to a lot of things that year.

 

Two months later, Logan finally found the cure. So I walked away from Alec. I’d been waiting for my chance to be with Logan for three years and I wasn’t going to pass that up for sex, no matter how mind-blowing.

 

I didn’t tell him about it until three days later. I didn’t know how. He was pissed for the next week; physically and emotionally. I guess I could’ve handled that better.

 

Three and a half weeks later I was back in Alec’s bed. After a month of making love by candlelight and soft jazz, I just couldn’t take it anymore. Logan is everything that is sweet and loving and tender, but he’s only human. He couldn’t scratch my itch. Not the way Alec did. Eight months with him had taught me how incredible sex could be with a fully-functional transgenic male. Damn him for that. And damn him for giving in to me.

 

I marked him that night. Tooth and nail. And he marked me back. I had to avoid Logan for two days because of it. I avoided Alec too. Every time I saw the bruises he left on my skin, I wanted to hit him for marking me like that… and I wanted him to do it again.

 

It was wrong. I know it. But I wanted them both. I wanted to be with Logan, and I never learned how to resist Alec. The slightest touch of his hand on my skin could melt me.

 

I never knew how to say ‘no’. To either of them. So I flaunted my relationship with Logan in public and went on playing my twisted little game with Alec behind Logan’s back. It felt good, too good to stop, and that’s all I cared about. All I let myself care about.

 

Until the awful night two months later when I screwed it all up. I went to Alec for release, but I didn’t stop and take the time to wash Logan’s scent off my skin first. Stupid. And dangerous. Alec took one look at me and that was the end of it. I thought he was going to kill me, or maybe Logan. Or maybe all three of us. But he just walked away.

 

He  **left**.

 

**He**  left  **me**.

 

He turned around and walked out the door and didn’t look back. He was gone for two whole weeks. Didn’t even come home to change his clothes. I know. I was there. I locked myself in his apartment and didn’t come out.

 

I never knew I’d miss him. Not his touch.  **Him**.

 

I could’ve killed him for leaving. Hell, I nearly did. I tried my best, despite the fact I could barely see past the tears. And he just stood there and took every punch and kick. Lovesick much?

 

I never knew he wasn’t the only one.

 

I pummelled him into the ground and then I kissed him. Soft and sweet, the way I’d never kissed him before. The way I’d never let myself kiss him before, because that’s not what we were about. That wasn’t what I thought I needed him for.

 

I stayed with him that night, and every night and every morning since. A month ago he told me he loved me. Two hours ago I finally admitted I loved him back.

 

The look in his eyes when I finally said it doesn’t make up for the look in Logan’s when I ended things, but it makes it bearable.

 

Love sucks. But sometimes… it sucks in all the right ways.


End file.
